


You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brief cameo by Stella, First Time, Freddie is a giant soft boy, It's a Freddie fic Stella had to be there, M/M, PWP, a bit - Freeform, mostly just sweet loving porn, trade angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: “I want you to fuck me.”Freddie goes slack jawed, eyes hilariously wide. His hands fall to his sides. Dmytro waits patiently.
Relationships: Frederik Gauthier/Dmytro Timashov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go

**Author's Note:**

> So, this season I fell a little (lot) in love with the Goat. And then I realized how adorable his and Dmytro's interactions were??? I managed to go to their game in Pittsburgh- before Dmytro ended up in Detroit, which killed me- and got some awesome photos of them warming up together.  
> SO I had to get this out of my system! Since there is like, NO LOVE for the Goat...I kinda wanna do a sequel to this now. Ugh. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, I don't own these boys and I'm probably the only one who needed this written but here it is- a whole lotta loving porn. 
> 
> Staysafe! <3

“Hey,” surprise flickers across Freddie’s face when he answers the door, followed quickly by a pleased smile that makes his eyes crinkle and his dimples pop. Dmytro’s never been able to resist that easy, happy smile. “What’re you doing here?”

He steps aside easily, letting Dmytro into his house. Stella pops up, winding her way around their legs, eager for attention. He scratches her head, stalling for the moment while he gets back the resolve that had led him from his apartment to Freddie’s door. 

“Dima?” Freddie prods when his silence has stretched too long. He sighs, letting his hand fall back to his side. Stella nudges his fingers but he somehow summons the willpower to ignore her for the moment. 

“I was picked up by the Wings.” It stills feels surreal to say it, to have the words out in the world. He hasn’t told any of the others yet- had wanted to talk to Freddie first. Doing so just makes it seem more  _ real. _

Freddie’s smile falls and he tugs Dmytro into a tight hug like he knows this is what he needs. It is, partly, and he unashamedly clings back. Toronto has been his home for over three years now. He’s grown up so much here and it hurts to be leaving it. 

“When do you need to be in Detroit?” Freddie asks, presumably thinking about the flight to Tampa that evening. 

“Not for a few days,” he keeps his face tucked against Freddie’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth, the strength of his hold. He feels dwarfed in Freddie’s arms, safe and secure. “But before you get back.” 

Freddie says something quietly in French. He doesn’t catch it, doesn’t think it’s one of the words he’s taught Dmytro over the years.

“I’ll drive to Detroit on our next break,” he promises, pulling back just far enough to see Dmytro’s face. “Help you get settled.”

He’s so earnest, so honest, and it’s what had given Dmytro the strength to drive over here in the first place and to say,

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Freddie goes slack jawed, eyes hilariously wide. His hands fall to his sides. Dmytro waits patiently because now that he’s actually  _ said _ it, he knows that Freddie won’t turn him away. He’s rewarded for his patience as Freddie’s cheeks flush red through his beard and he knows he’s thinking about it now.

Dmytro licks his lips and watches, pleased, as Freddie’s gaze drops to them.

“What?”

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he says. Freddie doesn’t flinch away when he rests his hands on his chest. He can feel the racing of his heart under his palm. “Over the years.”

“You have?” Freddie’s eyes are so dark and wide, hopeful, he realizes and he wants to kick himself for waiting for so long. For what? Because he had liked things the way they were, hadn’t wanted things to change?

He nods, running one hand up, over his shoulder, cupping the back of his neck and playing with the short hairs there. Touching Freddie’s skin seems to help reboot him, and his hands come up tentatively to rest on Dmytro’s hips, like he can’t quite believe he can touch. 

“And now I’m leaving, so there is nothing stopping us.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Freddie’s thumbs smooth over his hips and he shivers. “Even if it’s just your friendship.”

“You won’t,” he promises with a sweet smile. Freddie smiles back and Dmytro has to kiss him.

Freddie ducks down easily as Dmytro goes on tip toe, lets himself be reeled into a sweet, slow kiss. It ignites a slow simmering fire in his belly and he presses himself tight against Freddie, feels the muscles under his hands, the strength there. Freddie kisses with the same kind of passion and love he shows on the ice, all encompassing, his lips soft in counterpart to the scratch of his beard. Freddie’s hands slide slowly over his ass, almost like he can’t quite believe he’s allowed, and Dmytro moans, dick hardening in his jeans.

Something bumps his leg and he gasps, pulling back from the kiss. 

Freddie laughs, huffing out “Go play Stella”, before reeling him back in. He can feel Freddie’s smile pressed against his swollen lips, and he can’t help but smile back. Stella bumps them again, apparently deciding she wants in on their game and they pull apart, bemused.

“Take me to bed, Freddie.”

Freddie nods, holding out his hand. His hair is sticking up in all directions, his lips dark red and swollen and Dmytro thinks,  _ I did that. _ He takes his hand and lets Freddie lead him through the house like he’s never been to his room before. Well, he hasn’t, not like  _ this. _

Freddie’s room is as clean as it always is- the bed made neatly, the floor bare, his go bag in the corner packed and ready to go later. He shuts the door behind them, gently nudging Stella away. She huffs at them but Dmytro can hear her claws clicking away down the hallway, bored of them. 

Early afternoon sun streams in through the window. Freddie’s backyard looks out over a large lawn bordering a forest- they don’t have to worry about anyone spotting them. 

Here, in Freddie’s room, it hits him that this is  _ happening _ and the simmering fire in his stomach ignites into a blaze. His hands scramble at the hem of his shirt and he manages to get it off before Freddie’s big hands are there, stilling him, calming him. 

“Let me,” he says, his hands dropping to the button of Dmytro’s jeans. He takes his time undressing Dmytro, fingers tracing carefully over the dips and lines of his body, expression intent like he’s memorizing the sight of him, the feel of him. He eases his jeans and his underwear down, kneeling so Dmytro can hold onto his shoulders to balance, stepping out of one leg then the other. His hands skate up his calves, the inside of his thighs. He shivers, ticklish as Freddie brushes against the back of his knees. 

“Sorry,” Freddie murmurs, pressing a kiss to his hip. 

He sucks in a gasp, his hands still on Freddie’s shoulders, his grip surely digging in too tight but Freddie doesn’t say anything, just presses another kiss to his stomach and then one to his other hip. 

And then he rubs his lips over the swollen head of his cock and Dmytro can’t swallow down the moan that escapes. 

Freddie gazes up at him, warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. He wraps one hand around Dmytro’s cock, strokes him slowly, and mouths at the tip. 

He swears quietly, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. 

Freddie seems to really enjoy it too, eyes slipping closed as he takes more of Dmytro’s cock into his mouth. He slides his mouth over the hard, heated flesh, hand covering what he can’t quite fit. Dmytro’s legs are shaking, threatening to give out as Freddie hums sweetly.

“Freddie,” he groans and Freddie gazes up at him, eyes so dark and warm. “Please, I want to come with you in me.”

Freddie groans and Dmytro has to clench his teeth at the sparks it sends shooting along his spine. He pulls off Dmytro's cock with a  _ pop _ that he knows he’ll be hearing in his dreams. He pushes to his feet and Dmytro knows his knees must be protesting but he doesn’t mention it, just reels him in for another sweet kiss. 

Dmytro helps him with his t-shirt, then his sweats and underwear, and then he’s finally bare. Dmytro looks his fill, all thick muscle and tanned skin. He’s let himself look over the years when he’s been feeling weak; he  _ knows _ he’s not the only one, Freddie is a work of  _ art. _ Thick chest, thick thighs, and a long thick cock he can’t wait to feel. 

Freddie doesn’t try to cover up as Dmytro oggles him but his cheeks are flaming and he knows that Freddie is only still because of how appreciative he is. He makes sure to show him, stroking his fingers across Freddie’s chest, toying with his nipples to see how it makes him shudder, lips parting and eyes sliding shut. He leans in, licks over one and then bites and Freddie groans, long and low in the quiet of the room. His hands stay at his sides though, fingers twitching like he  _ wants _ to touch but doesn’t know where to put them. Dmytro reaches for Freddie’s hand, tangles their fingers together and then wraps them around Freddie’s cock. Freddie lets out a breath like he’s been boarded, eyes flying open. He stares down at their hands around his cock; it’s an angry red, precome beading at the tip. Dmytro’s fingers don’t quite reach around the width. 

He jacks Freddie nice and slow, their hands entangled. Freddie watches, shaking lightly, unable to tear his gaze away. His breath comes out in little pants. Dmytro presses a kiss to his shoulder, feeling unbearably fond of this giant of a man, too sweet for his own good. 

“Come on,” he says quietly, reluctantly pulling their hands away from Freddie’s cock. Part of him would like to see how far he can push Freddie like this, see how much he’ll let Dmytro do before he snaps, or if he would at all, if he’d just let Dmytro take and take and  _ take. _

The duvet gets tossed carelessly on the floor. He gets settled on his hands and knees on the bed, fingers digging into the soft white sheets. The mattress dips behind him and then Freddie is there, a heavy presence against his back as he reaches over him to get into the bedside table. He has to lock his elbows against the weight, groans at the feeling of Freddie’s hard cock rubbing against his hip. And then he’s pulled back and Dmytro is left feeling cold. 

He’s not gone for long, one big warm hand resting briefly on Dmytro’s hip, soothing him. And then there’s the crack of a tube. Freddie waits a moment before brushing his thumb over Dmytro’s hole- has taken the time to warm the lube. He toys with his rim, lightly pressing with his thumb over and over. Dmytro cranes his neck, spots the entranced look on Freddie’s face and has to duck his head, overwhelmed. 

Freddie takes his time, trading out his thumb for his index finger but he keeps his touches light, teasing, and slowly Dmytro relaxes until his finger can slip inside easily. 

Freddie’s fingers are  _ thick. _ Thick and long and perfect as he works slowly, steadily to stretch him. He pushes back and is rewarded with a second finger, knocking the breath out of him for a moment. Freddie rubs his beard against one of Dmytro’s cheeks, sending little sparks through him and surely leaving the skin red and raw. He’ll be able to look later, in the privacy of his own bathroom and remember how it felt to have all of Frederik Gauthier’s attention focused on him.

Freddie murmurs praise against his skin, a mixture of English and French. The words flow together, wash over him, have him pressing his face into the pillow for a moment as he tries to center himself. A third finger teases against his rim and he whines, his cock so hard it hurts where it hangs between his thighs. 

Freddie adds more lube and the sound of his fingers, so slick, is lewd in the quiet of the room, echoes over the sound of Dmytro’s moans. He rocks his hips back but Freddie keeps his pace languid, slow and steady as he fucks him with his fingers, pulling them back and feeling the clench as Dmytro’s body tries to keep him there.

“Freddie,” his body feels slick with sweat, his nerves alight. He thinks he could come like this, Freddie’s fingers brushing his prostate, thick and long and lighting him up. “Please.”

“It’s okay,” Freddie presses a kiss to the dip in his spine and eases his fingers out. “I have you,  _ mon cher.” _

Dmytro shivers, his body aching at the empty feeling he’s left with. There’s the crinkle of a wrapper and he twists enough to watch as Freddie rolls the condom down over his thick cock. His own throbs at the sight. Freddie jacks himself slowly, his gaze travelling over Dmytro, expression hungry.

“How do you want me?” He asks and Dymtro shivers at how trusting and open he is, how he’s letting Dmytro take the lead. All of that strength entrusted to him. 

He thinks about sinking down onto Freddie’s cock, of controlling the pace and watching as Freddie falls apart. Later. If there is a later.

“Like this.” He rolls back onto his hands and knees. 

The bed dips again as Freddie gets resituated. He spreads Dmytro’s legs a little wider, smooths his hands along his back down to his hips. The head of his cock brushes against Dmytro’s balls. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, one hand leaving Dmytro’s hip to grip his cock.

The first push aches, his muscles feeling the burn of an unfamiliar stretch. It’s been so long since he’s done this and Freddie is big, bigger than anyone he’s been with. He breathes through it and the head of Freddie’s cock finally pops through the tight ring of muscle. 

Freddie sucks in a sharp breath, stilling. 

“Keep going,” he gasps, his body shaking at the sensations. 

Freddie leans forwards, and it shifts him inside of Dmytro and he has to bite back the hiss at the sharp sting. He presses a kiss to Dmytro’s shoulder, his hands back on his hips and slowly,  _ so slowly,  _ he starts to slide his cock in.

It feels like it takes  _ forever. _ Freddie feels  _ huge, _ feels like he’s stretching Dmytro past the point of no return, like he’s carving a space out for himself inside of Dmytro, one no one else will ever be able to fill. Dmytro grips the sheets, knuckles white, and he breathes. 

He feels so  _ full. _

Finally,  _ finally, _ Freddie stills and Dmytro realizes his hips are flush against Dmytro’s ass. 

“Are you alright?” His voice is strained, the grip on Dmytro’s hips tight, but not tight enough to leave bruises, like he’s  _ still _ holding back. He rubs his cheek against Dmytro’s back, presses kisses along his spine. He can feel Freddie’s smile against his bare skin and something in him settles, has him smiling unseeingly at the headboard. 

_ “Yes.” _ He reaches back and squeezes Freddie’s hand quickly. 

“You feel so good,” he murmurs and his hips shift. Dmytro gasps, the feeling quickly edging away from  _ too much _ to  _ not enough.  _ “So tight.”

“Freddie, move,  _ please,” _ he pushes back, is rewarded by Freddie’s strained groan. He expects Freddie to sit back, to grip his hips and give it to him. He surprises him instead when he stays draped over Dmytro, blanketing his body. He starts a slow grind, barely easing his cock out, before fucking back in so deep he swears he can feel him in his  _ throat. _ Sparks fly up and down his spine and liquid heat pools in his gut, coiling tighter with each deep grind. His rim catches on Freddie’s cock, and each spark goes directly to his dick. He’s thick, so thick he rubs up against Dmytro’s prostate unerringly, has him panting, arms shaking and balls drawn up tight to his body in no time. One big arm wraps around Dmytro’s chest, pulls him tight against him as he rolls his hips in short, hard thrusts that make his breath catch in his chest and tears pool in his eyes. 

His other hand is braced on the bed, holding him up from crushing Dmytro under his weight, but he sits back, pulls Dmytro with him, just far enough that he can pull Dmytro down onto his cock, so he’s kneeling over Freddie’s lap, his free hand wrapping around his cock.

He jerks Dmytro in time with each thrust of his hips. Slow, rubbing his thumb over the tip and collecting the pre come there. Dmytro is soaked, his cock leaking, aching to come. Braced over Freddie’s lap as he thrusts up into him- it’s overwhelming. He feels split open, left bare. If he thought Freddie’s cock felt big before, it’s nothing compared to now- huge and so deep he’ll be able to feel its shape  _ forever. _ He’s shaking, tears sliding down his cheeks, so close to coming and unable to tip over that edge,  _ unwilling _ because then that would mean it was over.

Freddie brushes their cheeks together, unbearably sweet.

“Shh,” he soothes him. “You’re so good, feel so good,  _ mon cher.” _

Dmytro comes all over his big hand.

He loses control of his limbs, shaking and shivering and he desperately wants to make Freddie come, but Freddie groans, pulls Dmytro down on his lap  _ hard _ and holds him there. He wishes wildly that the condom wasn’t there, that he could  _ feel _ Freddie filling him full of his come, marking him as his. 

Freddie is panting as he helps Dmytro lay down, gently eases his cock out of him. He watches through half lidded eyes as Freddie ties the condom off and disposes of it in the ensuite. A moment later he’s back with a warm, wet cloth. It should be awkward and uncomfortable, having someone else clean between his legs, prod gently at his swollen hole to ensure he’s alright, but it’s  _ Freddie _ so instead he luxuriates in the attention. 

The cloth gets placed in the laundry hamper, the duvet rescued from the floor and then Freddie is back, happily wrapping himself around Dmytro under the covers. 

“Was that alright?” Freddie murmurs, his lips pressed against the bare skin of Dmytro’s shoulder. 

He laughs, poking his gentle giant.

“Of course it was.” Freddie’s eyes crinkle.  _ “You _ were fantastic.”

Freddie blushes and it’s so sweet that Dmytro has to turn on his side, press his lips to Freddie’s for a slow, easy kiss. 

“Stay with me?” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind Dmytro’s ear. “Till I have to leave later?”

Dmytro nods, throat tight. He thinks if Freddie asked him to stay forever, he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I've let my French go since highschool?


End file.
